Chapter 9: Missing you

Jelena:

For the past two days, I’ve gone back to the lagoon, but Traeger never showed up. Frustrated by his absence, I refuse to go back. It hurts that he didn’t show up. Horny and Frustrated, I wipe a stray tear away and lie back on my bed. I don’t understand why I feel this way. I barely know him. What is this hold he has on me? Something in my mind echoes that it’s more than a hold, but I quickly reject the idea. My mind wanders back to our earlier encounter. I can’t help but think about how aroused and consumed he made me feel.

A knock on the door interrupts my thoughts. It’s my dad. “Lena, pumpkin, we’re going to go to build a campfire out front. Let’s go, sweetheart.” I watch the shadow of his feet move beneath the door and wipe my eyes. “Okay, dad. Let me finish getting dressed. I’ll meet you guys there.” He hesitates for a moment. “Okay, sweet, but you better hurry because we brought marshmallows, and you know how Jesse gets when there are marshmallows.”

Once my dad steps away from the door, I head towards my bathroom to get ready for the evening. However, I can’t stop thinking about Trager. I know I need to, though. Slipping on some yoga pants and a long beach sweater with nothing underneath, I let it fall down one of my shoulders. My body still feels sensitive, and the material feels good.

The bonfire is fun and relaxing. After we’ve had a few ‘Smores and some hotdogs, my dad hands me my guitar. I play a few songs, which makes the boys fall instantly asleep. Mr. Morgan and Dad take the boys to bed. A few moments later, they come back out, and my mom asks me. “Sweetie, play something romantic and sing this time.” She turns back to Mrs. Morgan. “She has a beautiful voice, Beatriz. You’ll enjoy it.” I think for a moment and play “You and I,” by One Direction. My mom loves that song. The couples dance in the dark as I sing and play.

Eventually, everyone begins to excuse themselves. “Sweetie, we’re going back to the house. Are you ready?” I shake my head. “No, mom, you go ahead without me. I’m just going to hang out for a bit. Don’t worry, I’ll put out the fire.” My mom nods her head and kisses my forehead. “Just don’t be out here for too long, baby.”

Once everyone is inside, I play a few more songs. Sadness overcomes me as I sing “Bleeding Love” by Leona Lewis. I close my eyes as the song winds down. I’m nearing the end of the song when a shuffling noise startles me from my melancholy. Startled, I come face to face with Traeger. He’s squatting down on the other side of the fire with an intent stare. Placing the guitar next to me, I peruse his face and what I can see of his body. His face is rugged with stubble like he hadn’t shaved in days. His body is covered in black, and his eyes are hooded. The light of the fire highlights his strong jaw and gunmetal eyes, making them shine like mirrors. Licking my lips, I take a deep breath and wait for him to say something. He doesn’t. He just squats there and stares at me, never breaking eye contact. It’s almost unnerving. Recalling my anger at his absence, I begin to rise.

He must notice my intent because before I can blink, he’s prowling towards me. It’s almost animalistic how he homes in on me. Once he reaches me, he sits back on his hind legs, which emphasizes his muscled thighs. I’m breathing raggedly at this point. Arousal flows through my body like syrup. There are only a few inches between us. Opening my legs, I lean my body closer to his. For a few moments, we just stare at each other; it’s almost as if we’re mesmerized.

Unable to bear the intensity anymore, I move my face closer to his. Our mouths are practically touching. His eyes gaze down at my lips, hungrily. Closing my eyes, I move my lips softly across his. Our lips linger in front of each other. Traeger lets out a pent-up breath and nips at my lips. It’s the most erotic moment of my life, and we’re not even really kissing. Opening my mouth, I let my tongue rub sensuously across his lips and taste his sweet nectar. Traeger groans in ecstasy but does not move away. Feeling emboldened, I deepen the kiss, but he doesn’t open his mouth. He simply remains where he is and lets me do what I want. Confused by his behavior, I pull back and give him a hesitant look. “Kiss me,” I whisper softly. Nervous, Traeger swallows deeply and moves his lip back onto mine. He seems unsure. Almost as if he’s never been kissed. It can’t be. Can it? I mean, the guy is walking sex on a stick. He’s the embodiment of every woman’s sexual fantasy. At least, to me, he is. Moving closer, I kiss his lips, open his mouth softly, and stick my tongue inside.

As if I’ve unleashed something in him, he places his hand on the back of my head and pulls me closer. Our lips are now moving frantically against each other. My tongue searches his out passionately and ensnares it with a sensual glide. Our ragged breathing is the only sound you can hear. Completely aroused, I tighten my arms around him and rub my chest against his. I can barely breathe, but I don’t care. I want him so bad. All I want to do is get closer. His firm back undulates as I wrap my legs around his midriff and grind my needy center against his. Traeger’s hands slide down my waist and grind me against his groin with a pleasurable roll. A small moan escapes my lips with every contact of my clit against the bulge in his pants. My body is on fire. Pulling away slightly, I take a deep breath and whisper against his lips. “You feel so good.”

Traeger doesn’t respond, opting to wrap his fingers around my hair and slamming his lips against mine. My throbbing nipples rub against my sweater with every glide of our bodies. His hands wander beneath my sweater, touching my bare skin as I caress my hands across his powerful shoulders and back, then back to through his short hair. My climax builds as the heat traverses up my legs to my molten center. Just as aroused, Traeger continues to grind his hips in a sensuous rhythm until every pleasure center inside me bursts. Waves of pleasure explode inside of me as I fall over the edge. I’m so caught up in my peak that it takes me a moment to hear an alarm go off in the distance.

Traeger visibly stiffens, then carefully extricates his body from my hold. His eyes are hooded as he gazes towards the sound of the alarm with a grim frown. Still reeling from the intensity of my orgasm, I cling to the log and give him a questioning look. Without a word, Traeger gets up and disappears into the forest. I don’t know how long I sit there, stunned by his easy dismissal. I snap out of my haze when my mother calls out to me. “Lena, are you still there, hon? Remember, there are still wild animals out there. Don’t stay there too long.”

As if in a daze, I rise from my perch and make my way back into the house. That night, I lie in my bed with tears of frustration running down my face. Damn him! The bastard pleasured me then ran off. I punch my pillow, letting out all of my hurt and anger. I hate him for making me feel this way. Eventually, I blackout in exhaustion.

The next morning, I’m resolved to not go back to the lagoon again. For the next few days, I ignore the urge and hang out with my family. If my thoughts wander back to him, I push them to the back of my mind and continue with what I’m doing. The nights are the hardest for me. It’s almost as if he pressed a button on my body that keeps me permanently aroused. I dream about him and wake up in an aroused sweat. Sometimes my bed covers feel too rough, and my skin feels so sensitive that I push them away and sleep naked.

My mother must notice my unsettled state because she is constantly asking me what’s wrong. However, I can’t tell her. I mean, what can I say? No, mom. I’m not sleeping well because I met this gorgeous guy who kissed me and touched me. And now I’m horny all the time, especially at night when I dream of him ravishing me in the woods. Yeah, that’ll go smoothly. I just tell her that I’m fine and take cold showers. I can tell she doesn’t believe me, but she doesn’t push.

My dreams have also become more vivid. I can’t seem to forget him. Sometimes, I think that I’m going crazy with want. On the fifth night, I lie awake in my bed and stare at the ceiling. I don’t know what to do. I can barely function. My body feels like a volcano that is ready to burst. Running my hands across my body, I tweak my nipples and sigh. Writhing with need, I move my legs restlessly across the silken sheets. I feel empty. Moving my hand down my stomach, I rub my clit. I know that this will only bring me a brief release, but I don’t care. I’m desperate. Working up a good rhythm, I arch my back and close my eyes when a noise startles me out of my haze. I’m no longer alone.

Looking up, I watch as a shadow moves across my balcony and into my darkened room. I’m so dead.